


Two Week Review

by Deannie



Category: The Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-16
Updated: 2007-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winston Zeddemore has his two week review at Ghostbusters. Written 5/2007</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Week Review

**Two Week Review**  
 _a snippet from a never-to-be-finished story_  


Two weeks into the job, and Winston looked like he was ready to call it quits. He was sitting on the hood of that no-good excuse for a hearse that he’s made us all come to know and love as Ecto, staring off into space. And I, being the nosy ass that I am, just had to interrupt.  


“Hey, Zed? What’s doing?”  


He jerked, nearly falling off the hood in surprise. “Damn, Venkman--wear a bell or something.” He looked down at his hands. “Worse than Spengler, half the time.”  


“Oh come on, no one’s worse than Egon,” I reminded him. “That boy and his twinkies.”  


His eyes got a strange look in them as he muttered, “Of all kinds, huh?”  


The whisper wasn’t much more than breath, but I heard it. And I was damn sure he meant me to. But, like most slights against Egon’s manhood, I ignored it. Hell, I’d seen Spengs toss a college fullback halfway across a room. Gay or not, he could take care of himself. And I figured out not long after that that Winston didn't have a problem with it, really.... It just sort of took him by surprise is all.  


“So,” I offered, jumping up on Ecto to join him, invading his space as only a fine psychologist can. “You gonna take off on us?” He looked up at me in shock, and I shrugged. “Just need to know whether to dock your pay for failing to give two weeks notice.”  


He snorted at that. “I don’t remember you paying me, Venkman.”  


“I didn’t. And I may not have to, huh?”  


We sat there silent for a couple of minutes before he finally blew out his breath and started talking. Amazing what silence will do for a soul that needs unburdening, ain’t it?  


“You know, I figured, when I took this gig...” He tossed a hand in the air carelessly. “What the hell--it’s a paycheck. It’s better than working in the trenches for Dad for the rest of my life.” His hand smacked his thigh and silence reigned again for a minute. “I... shit, man, I never thought it was going to be like this.” His voice dropped to a mutter, and I had to strain to hear it from inches away. “Just like the fucking jungle all over again.”  


I had known he was a vet--and thanked my lucky stars once again that I was just that _tiny_ bit too young for the draft--and I knew he was from the streets, same as me... But hearing him liken this fun-loving proton-slinging job to combat was enough to really get my attention. Back then, we were still too new at it to know what we were really up against.  


“Too much for you, huh?” I ventured, easing off as his eyes flashed coldly. “I mean, it’s gotta bring things back.”  


He nodded shortly. “Too damn many things, that’s for sure.” He sighed. “Thing that’s got me scared shitless? I almost like it.”  


“And that scares you why?”  


He flashed a grin, like a teacher catching me out. “Don’t pull the psych routine on me, Venkman. Been down that road before.” I nodded my acknowledgment, and he continued. “I never thought I’d _want_ to hold a weapon again, man. Never thought I’d _like_ the rush you get with a kill.” His fists balled up and hit the hood almost hard enough to dent. “Damnit, it’s like being right back there in the bush--and this time I can’t get enough!”  


Okay, that was definitely a terrifying prospect. Nothing like finding out you might _enjoy_ killing things, huh? I looked him up and down for a long minute, watching as he tried to get himself under control. I’ve never given trust willingly--hell, Egon and Ray had to drag it out of me, way back when--but I found myself, after two short weeks, trusting this guy!  


Terrifying prospects all around.  


“Zed, if you want out, you got it.” His head snapped up, and I raised a hand to stop him. “But think about this. Egon and Ray and me--we got into this as a game. Hell, I half-thought those two were nuts for ever thinking this crap was real...” I met his eyes and held them, reading the fear and the hint of self-loathing there. “But we weren’t prepared for the true shit of it, Winston. We weren’t prepared for the fact that one well-heeled Class Six could easily bring down a building--or trash a school. This shit is real--and you handle it a hell of a lot better than any of us do.”  


He looked at me for a long time. I’ve always marveled at that. Zed doesn’t say much, but damn does he think. Every word considered, every phrase thought out. Even way back then, I knew that that foresight was going to save our lives a hundred times over--if only I could get him to _stay_.  


“I really thought you guys were nuts, Pete,” he finally whispered. “But these things... They’re evil, man.” He closed his eyes, and I’m not sure I want to know what he saw that made him snap them open again so fast. “Just... back of the bible _evil_.”  


“More evil than the VC?”  


The anger in his eyes almost snapped me in half right there. “If they were evil then so was I, man,” he grated viciously. “Wasn’t nobody in that war that should have been there.”  


I nodded carefully. It was pretty much the answer I’d expected, but I was glad to see he was just as open-minded as I’d thought he was. “How about _this_ war, Zed?” I asked quietly. “Who should be here?”  


The smile that broke across his face was as timid a response as I’ve ever seen from him--before or since--but his voice held just enough strength to make me breathe easy for the first time since I’d walked down the stairs to find him sitting there.  


“Somebody who’s a hell of a lot better at watching your backs than you are, that’s for damn sure.”  


And, damn, but he is good at watching our backs, isn’t he?  


* * * * * * *  
The End  



End file.
